


Auf Asche

by mrecookies



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrecookies/pseuds/mrecookies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say hope is a dangerous thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auf Asche

**Author's Note:**

> For Amy, who broke my heart yet again with her Brad/Nate fanmix [long to be unbroken](http://etacanis.livejournal.com/213766.html). Wrote it at 4 am.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Based on the fictionalized characters as played by Alexander Skarsgard and Stark Sands in the HBO miniseries, not the real people.

Brad doesn't believe in hope. He doesn't think too much about the future. The only thing that's important is the heat of the moment, the fact that he and his fellow Marines are fighting a war that they don't really believe in.

The _now_ is that his CO is looking at Brad with those sad green eyes that make his throat close up just a fraction. Brad knows more than to think about what _could_ ; the important thing is what _is_.

Maybe he should stop listening to Ray go off on semi-philosophical tangents.

Those green eyes tell him that the LT - _Nate_ \- is losing himself in desperation, trying to cling on to his fading ideals that have been torn to shreds by the incompetent fucktards that is Command.

They say hope is a dangerous thing.

Brad tries to rationalize his feelings, because this _thing_ in his own goddamn fucking head is rendering his combat readiness ineffective at best.

_Hitman Two Actual, this is Hitman Two-One. Interrogative: what is the sitrep on this particular AO? And what are the plans to unfuck this situation, over?_

When Brad sleeps, he dreams of the deep-sea underwater Recon missions. The dark shadows of the unknown that send shivers through his body. It's not dissimilar to the want, the itch in his palms, the prickling sensation that runs up and down his skin every fucking time those eyes turn to look at him.


End file.
